So, I'm debating on whether or not I should drink the Sam Smith Oatmeal Stout I have in the fridge. The thing is...I'm at that point where I should probably be drinking water. However, I'm also at that point where I'm writing on this blog. I think I'll crack'er open and see if I live to regret it. Damn blog! Y0u're not supposed to be a record of my experimentations with mind-altering substances. Yet here you are, shitting on my permanent record as our corporate overlords monitor all.
So after 2 seconds of thinking about it, my drunken thoughts don't seem to be very profound at all. Yet here I am and the words are flowing. Writers struggling with writers block would do themselves a service and a disservice by using alcohol for inspiration. It makes me wonder how much crap I've had to endure from writers who took a few intoxicated shortcuts for inspiration. I'm looking at you Jenji Kohan (creator of Weeds).
My Oakmont apartment feels like a modern version of Mr. Drummond's apartment on Different Strokes. Well, the kitchen does anyway. This is definitely the nicest place I've ever lived. It's too bad that the house I buy will never compare to this.
Wow! So much for inspiration. I'm very sleepy all of the sudden. I'm gonna stop writing now. Let this be a lesson to you: Drinking inspiration isn't really inspiration. Writing feels stupid right now.
